Raleigh's Folly

Chapter 3

Chapter 32018—late February

As they were walking around the house toward the trailer, Eric said, “Shouldn’t there be a cemetery somewhere? I don’t remember seeing one yesterday, but it was getting kind of dark back in the bushes.”

“There isn’t a cemetery,” Carlton said, “but there is a family mausoleum in the far northwest corner of the property. You didn’t see it, because it’s totally screened by shrubs.”

“Have you been inside it?” Eric said.

“Yeah. The entire Raleigh family is buried there—father, mother, three sons, and a friend of some sort.”

“Friend?” Rusty said.

“The inscription reads Moses, beloved friend,” Carlton said. “It’s funny, though.”

“Why?” Eric said.

“The father and the two older sons all died in the same year—within a day or two of each other.”

“And the youngest son?”

“He died some years later, a couple of months after his mother’s death.”

“Must be a story there,” Rusty said.

“Could be,” Eric said.

“You’ve been talking about writing a novel, buddy,” Rusty said. “The Raleigh Family history sounds like good source material.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Eric said. “Meanwhile, we’re here to discuss business.”

When they were seated around Carlton’s desk, he quickly got down to business, and eventually used a laptop computer to draw up a contract for the clean-up phase of the project that satisfied all parties.

“I have a question,” Rusty said after they’d signed the contract.

“Ask away,” Carlton said.

“Do you plan to plant crops on the property?”

“We certainly do,” Carlton said. “We intend to divide the acreage into four more or less equal parts. One each for corn, cotton, peanuts, and soybeans. The planting will have to begin by mid-April, and will last through June, depending on which crop you’re talking about. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re gonna need someone to clear that ground—it’s been left unused for so long that it’s covered with brush and small trees. An uncle of mine does that sort of land clearing, and he’ll give you a fair price.”

“Give me the contact information, and I’ll give him a call,” Carlton said. “We’re also going to need a fencing contractor. Any ideas?”

“Sure,” Eric said. “Nearly everyone in this county is related by blood, marriage, or s*x, and we all know each other—for the most part.”

“How can you be related by s*x?” Carlton said.

“Sorry, I misspoke. I should have said that nearly everyone in the county is connected by blood, marriage, or whomever they happen to be screwing at the time.”

“Now that, I can understand,” Carlton said, and chuckled.

“I have a cousin who does fencing for farm property,” Eric said.

“All I need is a name and number,” Carlton said.

Eric wrote some information on his yellow pad, tore the page loose, and handed it to Rusty. “Add your uncle’s information and pass this along to Carlton.”

Rusty scribbled on the page, and gave it to Carlton, who looked at it briefly, and said, “Thanks, guys.”

“If you don’t have anything else for us, Carlton,” Eric said, “we need to go round up a crew for tomorrow.”

“Have at it,” Carlton said, “and thanks again.”

* * * *

Eric and Rusty had driven to the meeting in Eric’s truck, and as they headed down the driveway, Rusty said, “So, what do you think of our new employer?”

“I like him. In fact, I wouldn’t mind doing him.”

“That’s no big deal, buddy. If memory serves, you’ll f**k just about any man who has a great ass.”

Eric grinned. “I resemble that remark, but in this case, I think it’s more than just an ass. There’s something about Carlton that appeals to me, and it isn’t just those intense green eyes.”

“Then go for it, buddy. It won’t be the first time that one of us has had a boyfriend on the side. In fact, we’ve even been exclusive with others a few times, over the years.”

“Yeah, that’s what keeps our friendship so great,” Eric said. “We always seem to be able to console each other when things go sour in the relationship department.”

“And they always seem to go sour, don’t they?” Rusty said.

“That’s true, but there’s a first time for everything.”

* * * *

Meanwhile, back at the Airstream, Carlton went to his file cabinet and retrieved a folder. Then he opened his laptop and went online. s**t, I hate this slow connection, he thought for the umpteenth time. I wish that damn cable company would get its act together and run a line to me like they promised. You’d think, for the amount of money I paid them, they’d be in high gear by now.

He spent a frustrating hour reading online copies of the US Census records for 1860 and 1870, and when he’d finished, he had several pages of notes, although he wasn’t quite sure what they meant. Time to visit the local historical society, he thought, assuming there is one. Of course there is—this is the deep south, and southerners thrive on history and genealogy.

That task out of the way, he called the numbers that Eric and Rusty had given him and made appointments for the following day. Then he locked up the Airstream, drove over to the nearby community of Archer, and treated himself to the daily special at the diner. As he ate, he thought about the two men he’d met with that morning. He’d never been particularly attracted to redheads, but Eric was a different story entirely. His blond hair, deep blue eyes, and tall, well-proportioned body made an attractive package. As for packages, the tight jeans Eric had been wearing showed that particular aspect of him to perfection. Those two guys are screwing each other, he thought. Their body language made that obvious, at least to him. He wondered if they were exclusive?

With that thought, he finished his meal, and took his check to the cashier. When he’d paid the bill, he said to the cashier, “Does this county have a local historical society?”

“It sure does, honey,” she said. “But it’s over at the county seat.”

“That would be Hawthorne, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That was a great meal, and thanks for the information.”

“My pleasure. Y’all come back now, you hear?”

“I’ll do that for sure,” he said, and returned to his truck.

He decided on the spur-of-the-moment to drive over to Hawthorne and visit the Historical Society. It was only a twenty-minute drive, and he quickly determined that the society occupied a suite of rooms on the ground floor of the county courthouse. The sign on the door indicated that they closed earlier than the rest of the courthouse offices, but that still gave him an hour or so to find out what kind of records they had.

He entered the room, and walked up to the desk, where an elderly woman was sorting through some papers.

“Can I help you?” she said. “I’m Myrtle Maple.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carlton said, and handed her a card. “I represent the new owner of Raleigh’s Folly, and I was wondering if you had any history on the family or the house?”

“Oh my, yes,” she said. “We have a huge bundle of information about The Folly. It’s just about the most famous landmark in this entire county. Do you have a particular interest?”

“I’m just looking for details in general at the moment, but I’d really like to know more about the family, and I’m wondering if your file contains photographs.”

“I believe it does,” she said. “Follow me, and we’ll soon find out. I assume that you’re planning to renovate the house?”

“We’re already hard at work on it,” he said, “and I have a crew coming to work on the grounds tomorrow.”

“May I ask who’s doing the work?”

“A couple of local men named Rusty and Eric. Are you familiar with them?”

“Yes, sir, and I can tell you that you’re in very good hands with those two boys.”

“That’s good to know.”

They’d arrived at a bank of file cabinets, and the woman selected a drawer and opened it. She retrieved two large file folders brimming with paperwork and handed them to him.

“This is all we have, and you’re welcome to spread it out over one of those empty tables,” she said, and pointed.

“Thanks.”

He spent an hour looking through the files and making notes. And, he found several photographs of the family members. When the closing bell rang, he tidied up the folders and carried them to the desk.

“I’ll want to come back over here in a day or two with my laptop.”

“That’s not a problem,” she said. “If you like, I can leave the files here at the desk with your name on them.”

Carlton handed her another one of his cards, thanked her again, and headed back to The Folly.